Something Dark is Coming
by Naamah Beherit
Summary: A mentally broken woman is willing to do whatever is necessary to regain her memories - even if it means following a dream.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: If you decide to read the story, you can expect non-canon dealing with female Revan's amnesia and no pairing of any sort – because the story of Revan romancing Carth was already told so many times, and I just hate Carth and his orange jacket ;)

I hope you'll enjoy.

Disclaimer: LucasArts owns everything you recognise.

* * *

Inspiration: _Something Dark Is Coming _by Bear McCreary

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There was something about the ground beneath her feet that unsettled her. The feeling was elusive to describe and gentle as sun's kisses on the skin during a summer day. At first she thought it was because of the grass, thick and as green as it could be only in a tropical forest. Then she realised that the forest she stood in was hardly a jungle – trees were far too low and too young. On the other hand, there was hot here indeed.

She looked at her feet again. Where were her shoes, by the way? And what was 'here', actually?

She raised her head and glanced around. Nothing else but trees she could see, and not even many of those because maybe a dozen metres away everything disappeared in a thick veil of mist. She could smell the storm coming – the characteristic scent of rain and ozone filled the air, and she was sure that it was going to be here sooner rather than later.

And no matter how crazy it sounded, all she thought about was where the hell she had lost her shoes.

She took a tentative step forward, and then the next one, careful not to accidentally step on a rock or something else. Knowing that it's better to go forwards than backwards, she strolled slowly through something what looked like a clearing. She didn't hear neither birds nor any other animals – even the approaching storm couldn't explain that it was suspiciously quiet here. As though...

As though everyone and everything were dead.

"...ia!"

The echo of someone's voice rooted her to the spot. The voice seemed to belong to a child, but what would the child be doing here?

"...er ...eia!"

Her pace quickened, then turned into run, but the echo faded and she realised that she couldn't determine the location of the child. She didn't want to acknowledge that she wouldn't meet anyone in this empty alien place, where the air was moist and hot, but somewhere deep inside – or maybe beneath? – the mist lay something cold as ice, something she could sense. Something she could even _touch_.

"Oh, fuck this," she said to herself and let her legs carry her deeper into the fog, only to find more trees and more fog. She didn't allow it to ruin her spirit and moved forwards with straightened back, with dignity and pride. Her pride was everything she had left.

"...ear me? I'm lost! Please, help me!"

Pleased, she found out that she was heading in the right direction – unless echoes and mist in this place were fooling her. The child was somewhere in front of her – and so were answers.

"What are you doing here, little girl? What's your name?"

She stopped in her tracks, surprised by those last words. There was no echo to them and they were making an oddly soothing and appealing impression, spoken in a deep, civil, masculine voice, voice which seemed to be more appropriate to give orders than to calm children.

A clap of thunder suddenly rolled above the forest, making her almost completely deaf for a while. Her assumptions were correct – the storm was about to begin. She muttered a course under her breath and broke into run, determined to find that man. He was definitely a better person to get answers from than the lost child.

"Oh, that's a lovely name," the man said, and it seemed that because of the thunder she didn't hear the child introducing herself.

'_Herself'? Since when do you think it's a girl?_

"What are you doing here?" he asked again, his voice getting louder and clearer with each step she took. She had to be getting close.

"We've landed here and Master Kreia went somewhere, and—and she's not coming back," the girl sobbed and given her voice, she couldn't be more than four years old.

_What kind of a person leaves a four-year-old child alone in a place like this?_!

"Don't worry, little girl, she'll be back."

"I don't want her to be back. I don't like her. But I don't wanna be alone."

There was a moment of silence when she heard only her breath, the soft sound of her steps and silent whispers in the mist. She couldn't understand all of them, but there was something about loss, anger and betrayal – and she knew them better than anything else.

_Do I?_

"And why do you—" was everything she made out of the man's question before she tripped on a stone and fell down. She quickly sat on the ground and took what she thought to be stone, trying to suppress the groan of annoyance and pain.

"Master Kreia told me to forget my Mum."

Acting on an impulse, she cleaned the stone off moss, dirt and...

_Is it ash?_

...something she couldn't recognise, only to find out that the stone wasn't stone at all, but an old, oddly shaped skull, somewhat similar to a human one, but with a few weird features which were making it very unusual and only a little less unnatural. She laid it gently on the grass and took a closer look at the place where it had lain before. To her utter surprise, it turned out that the soil was covered with a thick layer of ashes, old enough for grass to grow in them. So that's why she was feeling so strange walking on it. And the small trees...

_Is it everywhere? Did something so bad happen here that caused the entire surface to burn out?_

"Why would this woman do that?"

She raised her head, startled by the man's voice, and caught a glimpse of the child's silhouette. The man still couldn't be seen.

"She told me I have to accept that Mum's dead and stop thinking about her. I don't wanna forget Mum!"

She stood up, hesitantly took a few steps closer to them and suddenly felt something touching her skin. Expecting only unusual things here, she needed a while to register that it just began to rain. At least the raindrops were warm.

"You are being trained to become a Jedi, aren't you?" the man asked quietly.

"I—I didn't want it, but Mum died and I had nowhere else to go," the girl whimpered. "Why do they tell me to forget my Mum?"

_That's a good question. Why would they want someone to forget something?_

"I think you're far too young to listen to my long and very philosophical lecture about it, little girl. But let me tell you something: once you grow up, you can come back here and then we'll talk."

She was close enough to see the child – she was a short and thin brunette, almost skin and bones only, her eyes dark blue as a stormy summer sky – and also a silhouette of the man. He was crouching beside the girl, but all she could see was his back. And there was something alarming about him.

"I don't know what this place is."

_You and me both, kid._

"Trust your instinct," he said. "You'll find the way."

"Can..." the child sobbed again, "can I stay here?"

"What?_!_" the man exclaimed, and she smirked. He _clearly _wasn't too fond of the children. She wasn't surprised – babysitting wasn't her favourite activity as well.

"Can I stay with you?"

She noticed him rubbing his temples. "That's... not a good idea. Why would you want it in the first place?"

She had a vague impression that the kid was going to say something about her mother again. Some part of her mind told her that it shouldn't be surprising, given the girl's age.

"You didn't tell me I have to stop loving my Mum and forget her."

_And so you hit the jackpot._

"I did not," he agreed. And she had a feeling that he suddenly became interested in this child. "Give me your hand, little girl, I'll show you something."

She stopped a few steps away from them and watched the girl extending her hand without the mistrust she should have felt while talking to a person she had never met before. The man took it in his hand – she noticed a glimpse of some red jewel on his glove – and the temperature of the air dropped a few degrees in the twinkling of an eye. Even the warm rain couldn't help it.

The girl didn't seem to mind, though, and when he released her hand a big happy smile appeared on her face.

"This will help you," he said. "The Jedi won't notice anything."

"And I don't have to forget!" the child squealed and hugged him. He flinched, but didn't back off. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Uh... yeah, you're welcome" he muttered and raised himself to his feet, apparently trying to save remnants of his dignity. "Now go that way, your Master is looking for you. And remember: you mustn't talk about our meeting. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she nodded solemnly and smiled again. "Thank you! I'll come back one day!"

The girl waved her hand and ran away, disappearing in the mist almost immediately. The man sighed heavily and looked into currently invisible sky.

"I'm sure you will," he said and put his hands into his pockets. "Are you going to stare at my back longer than you already have?"

A shiver of fear ran down her spine, but she didn't answer and forced herself to come closer, wondering how the hell he knew. Did he hear her? Or maybe he was Force-sensitive and felt her lately learnt skills.

_Of course he is_. _How can you be so blind?_

The funny thing was that despite she could now touch him if she wanted to, he still looked more like a silhouette in the fog than a real person. More like a ghost – or a dream. Maybe this whole place was just a dream, and she was going to wake up soon to spend another pointless day doing things she didn't want to with people she didn't like.

_Or maybe not?_

"Has a tuk'ata bitten off your tongue, my old friend?" he said ironically, and she felt her fear turning into anger. No-one was making fool of her. No-one.

"I don't think we've met," she snapped at him. "Therefore you're not my friend."

"Oh, but we have," he chuckled and turned around. Scream died in her throat when all she saw was the eternal depths of universe, reflections of countless stars and infinite knowledge in his eyes. There was no real person – there was only power. "I see you grew up, little girl."

* * *

"What was your nightmare about, Vanth?" Bastila asked quietly during breakfast. There weren't many people in the dining room and no-one was interested in their conversation, but apparently Shan's paranoia got better of her.

"I didn't have a nightmare," Vanth muttered and focused her attention on her sandwich. She had woken up before dawn, shivering and scared, lying in her bed in a small, dark room at the Jedi Academy on Dantooine. The image of that man was still burning in her mind, sharp as no other memory.

Truth to be told, she had almost no memories at all.

The image of the girl...

_(I see you grew up)_

...was also vivid, and some part of her consciousness – which hadn't given up on hope yet – was telling her that it could not only be a dream, but maybe a memory. She would gladly cling to even a shard of hope that it actually _was _a memory.

That she could one day regain all of her memories.

It was tormenting to be cut off her life – even to be unable to say 'I am Vanth Kratti', because she couldn't be sure if she was the same person she used to be before the accident. If a person was determined and shaped by his or her memories and experience, she was nothing more but a newborn. Having none of those, she was no-one.

"Don't forget that we have a bond," Bastila said. "I sensed your uneasiness, I still do. Tell me what's wrong, Vanth."

"Believe me, I can hardly forget that you spy on my mind," Vanth growled and finished her breakfast. "Actually, that's this one thing I'd rather forget."

"You don't have to see me as your enemy," Shan pleaded. "Neither the Jedi Order. We're not your enemies. We're your friends."

"Then fix my head."

"As you already know—"

"I don't."

"As you know," Bastila continued without a blink, "we've tried. Your brain was too badly damaged. We cannot do anything to heal your amnesia. It's irreversible."

The same story, over and over again. Vanth was sick of hearing excuses and assurances that 'they'd tried'. The Jedi did _nothing_ else but assured her – and they assumed she would trust them just like that, without questions. The Eternal Pyre would freeze sooner than she put her trust in the Jedi Order.

_Now what's the Eternal Pyre?_

There were few words she sometimes recalled, words that meant nothing when she was thinking about them, but offering a promise of answers when she wasn't working on uncovering their secrets. Words that were driving her mad.

"Then – because I don't remember the last time 'you've tried' – try again," she said, trying to look Bastila in the eyes, but the ceiling was more important for the young Jedi. "If you want me to trust you, do something to earn that trust."

"There's no point in trying again," Shan shook her head. There was a moment of uneasy silence eventually broken by Vanth's bitter laugh.

"So don't expect me to believe you if all that you and your fucking Jedi Order are doing is nothing more but indoctrinating me with your oh so all-loving philosophy," she said, not expecting any answer to that. "Do you even imagine what it's like not to remember your own life? To have only a few information that can't even be called 'memories'? To have your life starting at the age of thirty, when the first thing you remember is crawling out of an escape pod which crashed on Taris, with blood running from a wound on your head and leg hurting so much that you'd rather cut it off than live with that pain?"

As she supposed, no answer came and Vanth was really grateful for that. Words couldn't solve this problem and no matter what they were telling her, they couldn't convince her that there was nothing they could do. They were _the Jedi_, for crying out loud, and everybody knew that the Jedi were able to do impossible things. They could have tried, they could have at least sent her to a doctor – and yet they didn't.

If they didn't want to help, she would find someone who did – even if it was the last thing she would do before her death.


	2. Chapter 2

"Shouldn't ya be on your magic classes right now?"

Vanth shot Canderous an amused glance – it would be nice if he actually noticed it – and returned her gaze back at the sublight engines she was trying to repair. The_ Ebon Hawk _had taken one hell of a beating during the escape from Taris, and when they had jumped out of the hyperspace above Dantooine it had been already too late to realise that the engines had been completely fucked. When all Carth Onasi had been able to do had failed, they had asked her, the spectacular winner of the swoop race on Taris to perform miracle. Not really wanting to die, she had done an impossible thing – and instead of exploding, the _Hawk _had just crashed.

And now she had to fix it.

"Yeah," she finally answered. "I should."

"Won't they come looking for you?" he asked again, as though there was nothing more amusing than sitting in the engine room and bothering her with irrelevant questions. His voice was slightly shaking with suppressed laughter.

"If they do, I'll stab them with my omnipotent wrench."

"They'll kick you out of the Order."

"Good. I'll stab them twice then."

Ordo failed at last and burst into laughter. She joined him after a while, wondering how alien it sounded to her own ears. She didn't remember the last time she laughed. It happened probably somewhere between 'never' and 'aeons ago'.

"You seem to be in a good mood," Canderous pointed out when he calmed down. "Your leg hurts less?"

"No, _that_ hasn't changed," she answered and stood on her tiptoes to reach and connect the engines to the ship's systems. A green light appeared where there was a red one for so many wasted days. "I'm in a good mood, because I finally fixed this baby. And I think that dream I told you about was something more than just a dream."

She took a step back and threw the wrench into the tool box. She hoped not to see it soon.

"And when it turns out it was _just_ a dream, you'll feel even worse," Ordo said in a serious voice. "Don't delude yourself."

"What else do I have if not delusions?" she asked rhetorically. "Only information without images. Meaningless words. I prefer delusions than nothing."

"They refused to try again?" he guessed, and she scowled. The scowl itself could have been an answer.

"They refused even to call a doctor."

"That's odd."

"Well, _that _I know myself."

Canderous fell silent for a while. "If you believe in that dream, use your famous Jedi archives. I'm sure you'll find something about your guy."

"I'm more interested in that planet than him," she admitted hesitantly. How could she explain feelings which were eluding her? "I think... I think he's dead."

"If he's dead, he can't help you."

As if she didn't know that herself.

* * *

It was a nice feeling, to sink her bare feet in the deep, velvety grass. Even the ash beneath it didn't repulse her anymore. It was only a silent witness of things that had happened and didn't matter anymore, of a long-dead past that was no-one's concern now. What was dead, stayed dead and didn't affect her silent joy. She was calm at last, not torn and hurting, and it was enough for her to enjoy the water-like grass waving in the wind around her feet.

The bottom stair she was sitting on was radiating with the warmth of the daytime, but she didn't know what kind of a building was behind her back. The trees bathed in the starlight were far more interesting that whatever had survived the hell that had been brought to this place. The past of this planet was dead.

And what was dead, stayed dead.

"Are you sure about that?"

She didn't turn around when she heard his voice, neither did she when the soft whisper of clothes told her that he sat on one of the stairs above. She realised that she expected him. Even in a dream she needed something to hold on to.

"You're dead too," she said. "Aren't you?"

A moment of silence followed her words.

"I am," he admitted at last. "Does it matter?"

She hung her head involuntarily, allowing herself for that little weakness. She could do it when no-one was looking and her hopes came crushing down to pieces. It hurt so much, to lose them.

"Does it?" he asked again.

"Yes," she answered. "Because if you're dead, you can't help me."

"Your mandalorian friend told you that," he said and it was a statement, not a question. "Well, he is hardly an expert."

She resisted the urge to turn her head and look at him. Seeing eternity wasn't good for her mental health.

"How can you help if you're dead?"

"Why do you think I can help at all?" he retorted.

"If you can't, then what would be the reason to dream about you and this place? Why would my mind tell me all of this if not to reassure me that there is a way for me to get better?"

"Do you really think this is _only_ a dream?" he asked. Curiosity sounded plainly in his deep, calm voice.

"Well, I remember turning in," she said slowly. "And I'm sure I'm now awake yet. That leaves only one explanation: I'm dreaming now and this forest and you are only creations of my subconscious."

"I won't disagree with your logic. On the other hand, this place exists somewhere in the galaxy. It's not a figment of your imagination."

The shards of her hopes tried to raise their heads and collect themselves into one piece again, but she didn't allow them to do that. She had to think clearly and rationally, impossible hopes that someone could actually help her weren't rational.

"Even if this place is real," she looked at the stars again and wasn't able to recognise any of the constellations, "you're not. You're dead."

"But I'm not a made up dream. I'm just dead," he said, an offended edge sounded in his voice.

_Yeah, and this is _completely _normal_, she thought bitterly, but didn't say it aloud. Her instinct ordered her to treat him with respect.

"Let's say that I accept – for a while – that you're not a hopelessly optimistic part of my subconscious, created to make me feel better. Who are you then? _What _are you?"

"Someone you used to consider a friend."

A friend? Someone she had once known, then. Someone who knew _her_, the real her from before the accident and the amnesia. Someone who could tell her about her, perhaps? The last time he called her 'a friend', she objected. Now she welcomed the thought for it left something to hold on to, a reason not to give up to desperation caused by the fact that she might have been mentally crippled for the last day of her life.

It didn't even matter that her apparently only friend seemed to be a ghost of a man dead for who knew how long. Or even not a ghost but a figment of her imagination, as he put it himself.

Restraining her hopes didn't work this time. She just closed her eyes and smiled – really smiled – for the first time in... how many day, exactly? It had to be before Taris, because she didn't remember the last time.

"If you're lying to me..."

"I'm not," he said, and a soft sound accompanying those words told her that he shrugged. "There's nothing I could gain from lying to you. Therefore I don't. Besides, you're one of a few people I respect. Maybe even one of fewer I like."

She had a feeling that it was supposed to be a compliment and in some way it made her proud. As though the respect of a dead person she was seeing only in her dreams actually meant something.

"What is this place?" she asked after a while. "Where is it? How can I find you?"

"I'm dead and you still want to find me?"

"I need help," she pleaded, feeling a sudden surge of desperation. She wasn't going to give up on the only person who seemed to be honest with her. "Please. I... I have nowhere else to go. No-one else is willing to try."

He fell silent for a while and she realised that she was losing the mental battle with that part of herself which wanted to look at him and find out if she remembered his face. Or perhaps she was just eager to know what he looked like.

"Very well," he agreed at last. "You may come. Just don't expect me to set up a welcome party."

Relief she felt was so huge that she wasn't even able to smile. Instead, she suddenly became exhausted as though she just finished a marathon. It was surprising how much she clung to the hope that he would be willing to help her.

"Can't you... start now?"

"Now?" he repeated. "Do I need to remind you that you're sleeping? That's one hell of an obstacle, little girl."

She flinched, surprised. "That previous dream..." she began and let her words trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

"What dream?" he asked curiously. She wasn't certain if he was playing with her or if he really didn't know. Maybe the last time it had been her subconscious after all. She supposed that everything was possible.

"The one I had about the girl," she explained. "And about you. I think it might have been a memory. _My _memory. Is it how I met you? Have I been a Jedi before my... accident?"

He gave out a short laughter. "You ask a lot of questions nowadays."

"That's because I have nothing else but questions nowadays."

"And these you have to answer yourself," he said, and from the sounds she heard behind her back she realised that he stood up. "Close your eyes and give me your hand."

Feeling a strong déjà vu, she obeyed. His fingertips – surprisingly warm and disturbingly real – briefly brushed against her skin when he put something on her palm. She clenched her fist around it. It was hard, with sharp edges and a texture of shattered glass.

She opened her eyes, yet didn't dare to look at the unexpected gift. She glanced at the stars instead, trying to remember what the sky looked like here.

"Give me the coordinates. I don't know where this planet is."

"Trust yourself. You'll find a way. You have to if you want my help."

"I cannot, it's imposs—"

"Sunrise," he said, his voice calm as always.

And the sunrise came.

* * *

Silent whisper of a nearby stream woke Vanth up, or maybe it was

_(sunrise)_

the sunlight shining directly into her face. She sat up and looked at the watch. It was an early evening and what was supposed to be only a short rest under a tree, changed into a three-hours-long period of deep slumber. Until now she didn't realise how exhausting were those constant repairs on the _Ebon Hawk_.

Vanth glanced around to locate her belt and the lightsaber she threw onto the ground before she decided to have a little rest. Thankfully, the leg hurt less and it confirmed her earlier observations that as long as she was on a warm planet she would—

A sharp reflection of the setting sun's light caught her attention. There was something lying in the grass, near her belt and the place where she woke up. She reached out involuntarily, before she could even think what

_(give me your hand)_

it might be. Slowly, as though she was still dreaming, Vanth took it, silently wondering what she

_(had been given by him)_

could possibly find in the middle of nowhere that endless plains of Dantooine were. Her fingers met familiar edges reminding her of a broken glass. Unsure if she woke up at all, she reluctantly looked at what was lying on her palm and sucked in a breath.

It was a Corusca gem, big enough to be worth a real fortune. Considering the fact that it was highly unlikely that someone would lose something like this thing, there was only one explanation left. And yet she didn't date to think about it. A possibility of insanity was too high. Perhaps she already lost her mind, wondering whether to acknowledge it or not.

Had he given her a clue where to find him?

She stood up and grabbed her comlink. No way in hell she was going to rot on this planet any longer.

"Canderous? Do you copy?"

"What?" he answered after a while.

"Tell Onasi to prep the engines," she ordered and broke into run. "If he doesn't want to go with us, tell him to get his ass out of my ship. We're leaving this rock."

"Where are we going?" Ordo wanted to know. She didn't blame him for that.

The Jedi Enclave loomed on the horizon. Vanth glanced at it before making a decision.

"To Coruscant," she said at last.


End file.
